There was a pause here.

"Only that I have got my bag of tobacco here in my pocket, and it be quite wet through."

After that, there was utter silence.

Volume 2, Chapter IV.

HOW TWO WENT A-FISHING, AND WHAT THEY CAUGHT.

"You may argue, Brother Brisdone, till all is blue," said Master Peasegood, "but I maintain that what I say is right. Now, look here; go back to the early days, and take your own apostle."

"My own apostle?" said Father Brisdone, smiling, as they walked down the lane, soon after sunrise, one bearing a basket the other a bag. The heavy dew lay upon leaf and strand, and sparkled in the brilliant sunshine; birds sang and flitted from bough to bough, scattering the heavy drops from off each spray; and, as the two clerics had come out of the cottage after an early breakfast, they had stood breathing the soft pure air, and smiled back at smiling Nature.

"My own apostle?" said Father Brisdone.

"Yes, Saint Peter; the rock upon which your church is built. Well, what was he--a fisherman?"

"Yes," said Father Brisdone, "before he took up his holy calling."

"Fisherman still, good brother. Did he not become a fisher of men?

Depend upon it, brother, Peter, if he had been down by the lake again, would have enjoyed a good pull at the net."

"Maybe, maybe," said the father, smiling.

"Well, let's grant it. Now, I was a fisherman before I took to the cloth, and I have been a fisherman ever since, right or wrong; and I hold that there is very little wrong in providing a dinner."

"I'll not argue with you," said Father Brisdone. "If all men were like you, Brother Peasegood, this would be a happier world."

"Wrong again!" cried Master Peasegood. "You see you force on an argument. If all men were like me, brother, it would be an unhappier world; for, look you, I'm too fat. I'm as big as three small men; and, if all were like me, we should be so crowding and elbowing each other that we should be quarrelling for want of room. Ha, ha, ha!" and "ha, ha, ha," he laughed again, making the rocks and woodlands echo to his jovial mirth; the stray rabbits betrayed their whereabouts by showing their little white tails as they hopped into their holes; and snake and lizard upon sunny bank hurrying away to safety long before the footsteps could be heard.

"There's something in fishing that seems to expand the heart," continued Master Peasegood to his willing hearer. "I never knew a man who was a good fisherman who was very wicked or brutal."

"In other matters," said Father Brisdone, with a smile.

"Well, well, well, but the fish we catch are vile, cruel things, which persecute their smaller fellows. Why, I've known a luce of twenty pounds seize and half swallow one of ten, and kill himself in the act.

Oh, no, brother, I have no pity for a great luce or pike; and, besides, see what they are when nicely treated, well cleaned, and stuffed, and buttered, and baked. Ha, ha, ha! we have the advantage of you there, Brother Brisdone; we can be carnal-minded, and eat, and drink, and wive if we like. But come along and let's begin. I can sniff the water now, with its soft wreaths of mist floating around. We'll have the boat and set our lures, and fish for a couple of hours, and then take a brace of the finest to Master Cobbe, and beg some more breakfast for our pains."

"But suppose we catch no fish?"

"But we shall catch fish--more, perhaps, than you expect."

The two friends trudged on, and, upon turning a corner of the narrow lane, came upon Mother Goodhugh, standing at the turning where Sir Mark had made his first acquaintance with Wat Kilby.

"Good morrow, Mother Goodhugh," said the stout parson.

"Save thee, my daughter," said Father Brisdone.

"Are you both going to curse the murderer of Abel Churr?" said Mother Goodhugh, sourly.

"Nay," said Master Peasegood; "and it would behove thee better, good woman, if thou did'st not sprinkle these curses of thine about with so liberal a hand. Come along, father."

"Yes, go along," cried the old woman, maliciously; "time-servers and makers of friendship with the ungodly as you are. But you'll see, you'll live to see."

"She's a terrible old woman," said Master Peasegood, with a curious smile upon his lip; "and she seems to make my fat go cold, like unto that of venison on an unwarmed dish. I've given her up, father, as a bad nut to crack. The worst of it is, that if I turn prophet my sayings are never fulfilled; while, when she raises her voice, her prophesyings come to pass, and the simple folks here believe in her more than in me.

But thank goodness, here we are."

Three hundred paces brought them to the edge of the lake, over which the soft white mists were disappearing before the sun. The boat lay on the sandy beach, with a chain holding it fast to the trunk of an old willow; and, as soon as the basket and wallet had been laid in, Master Peasegood helped his friend to take his place.

"I don't think I shall swamp the boat, Brother Brisdone," he said, laughing, as he sent the skiff well down in the water. "If I do, just you hold on tightly to my gown, for I'm too fat to sink."

A hearty "Ha, ha, ha!" floated across the lake as he finished his speech; and then, taking the little oars, he proceeded to paddle across for some distance before pausing and opening the large basket he had brought.

The first thing taken out was a large can of water with a lid pierced with holes; and then from the bag were shaken out a dozen bladders, each tied round the centre with a string and a loop. From his basket Master Peasegood then brought out a dozen goodly hooks, whose points were stuck in a piece of cork, and whose strings were neatly tied in a bunch; and, as he took them off, one by one, each was baited with a fresh young gudgeon from the can, the string attached to one of the bladders, and this dropped overboard to float away.

In a short time the whole of the hooks were baited, and the lake dotted with the bladders that floated here and there, borne by the breeze or tugged by the lively gudgeons. Then, and then only, did Master Peasegood nearly upset the boat by leaning over the side to wash his hands, and smile at his companion.

His smile was not perceived though, for Father Brisdone was sitting with one elbow upon his knee, his cheek upon his hand, gazing out and away at the soft landscape, with the Pool-house and its works glorified by the morning sun.

"Now we'll sit and talk for awhile," said Master Peasegood, smiling jollily. "What do you say to a pleasant subject for discussion--say purgatory?"

"Because thou hast been putting these poor gudgeons into a state of misery, brother?" said Father Brisdone.

"Let the gudgeons rest," said Master Peasegood. "They have all gone overboard like so many finny Jonahs, for the benefit of those on board this ship; and, if they are lucky, they will soon be safe in so many whales' insides. Ha, ha, ha! Master Brisdone, I'm afraid I'm a very irreverent disciple. By all the saints, there goes one of the Jonahs.

See!"

He pointed to where, just by a reed-bed towards which the bladder had drifted, there was a tremendous swirl in the water, and away it went skimming along at a rapid rate.

"Ha, yes, I suppose that will be a great fish," said Father Brisdone, sadly; "but I was thinking of the maiden at yon house--sweet little Mace."

"Bless her!" said Master Peasegood.

"Amen," said his companion. "Brother Joseph, she is at a perilous age, and I do not think her father's to be trusted."

"You mean with her future?" said Master Peasegood. "I fear so too.

Poor child, she needs a mother's counsel!"

"Think you she has a lover?" said Father Brisdone, quietly.

"Two fierce luces playing round the little gudgeon," cried Master Peasegood, excitedly. "One of them will snatch it up directly. Nay, nay," he continued, reddening; "I meant no inference. I was thinking of yon bait. There it goes."

He pointed to where a gudgeon had leaped several times out of the water to escape a couple of fierce pike, one of which seized it and bore it off.

"Lovers?" he continued. "Yes, that courtly fellow from town is trying to win her, and so is Gilbert Carr."

"And she?"

"She loves Culverin Carr with all her pretty little soul, but he shall not have her unless--"